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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320327">quiet when i'm coming home, hold me lover like you used to</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAngelique/pseuds/LadyAngelique'>LadyAngelique</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394'>moonythejedi394</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Autistic Tony Stark, Blindfolds, Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America Sam Wilson, Daddy Kink, Dissociation, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Don't copy to another site, Eating, Food, Hand Feeding, M/M, Nomad Steve Rogers, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Retired Bucky Barnes, Sensation Play, Sensory Deprivation, Soft Dom Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Sub Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, daddy bucky barnes, mcukinkbang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:48:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAngelique/pseuds/LadyAngelique, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post mission, Steve is struggling to switch from Nomad headspace to himself. At that point, it's Bucky's turn to take point on a new mission. He knows exactly what to do to bring his boy down. When he does, Steve is pliant and happy and calm. A job well done.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCU Kinkbang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>quiet when i'm coming home, hold me lover like you used to</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>welcome back to another stucky kink fic, this time brought to you by the MCU Kinkbang! not kink bingo, that's different. this story is the brainchild of the lovely and wonderful LadyAngelique aka <a href="https://twitter.com/LLOUIS013">LLouis</a>, who i worked with a while back in exchange for donations to relief efforts in Australia, i'm their pinch-hitter author and i am so pleased to have picked up their wonderful art. pls enjoy</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  
</h1><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Steve had been bouncing his leg for perhaps half an hour, even longer. He was tapping both thumbs against the hard panels of his suit’s torso plating. He’d been staring across the jet for just as long, eyes darting around at the source of any movement or sound. He was sweating so fucking much, he felt disgustingly damp everywhere.</p><p> </p><p>Objectively, he recognized that he was having a panic attack. All of the above symptoms, and so on. However, he’d become so accomplished at compartmentalizing shitty emotions – World War II, et cetera – that it felt a lot like he was just experiencing what someone else might feel during a panic attack. He was removed from his body. He was just watching Tony pacing back and forth down the jet, tapping his fingers along to the beat of whatever heavy metal song they were listening to then. The music made Steve’s whole brain feel like it was being squished through someone’s fingers, and he definitely could connect the swooping in his stomach to the guitar and drums, but! Whatever the music was, it was helping Tony drop out of his mission headspace and Steve would never ask Tony to compromise his routine for anything. Compartmentalizing. Steve would be fine until they landed and Bucky picked him up. He’d fall apart then, but Bucky would be there to put him back together.</p><p> </p><p><em> God, </em> Bucky. Steve felt his chest get impossibly tighter at the thought of seeing him. He was maybe two screaming verses away from bursting into tears from the sheer battery of volume and light, and the fact that he still had – Steve checked his watch – twenty-three minutes before they touched down again. </p><p> </p><p>It had only been a few days since he’d said goodbye to Bucky, Steve reminded himself. They’d been living in Brooklyn comfortably for almost two years already, post-Accords and Thanos and everything else. Steve wasn’t even Captain America anymore, Sam was, he’d become Nomad instead. He went on missions as Nomad all the time. He even sat through Tony’s post-mission routine a thousand times. He didn’t mind Tony’s routine, especially knowing how crucial it was to Tony’s own mental health; he and Tony were friends for real now, dammit. Nothing had been out of the ordinary for this mission, no one had been injured, there had been minimal property damage, the culprit of the rodents of unusual size (Tony’s words) invading south-east Indianapolis, had been caught and was sitting in the hold. Rats didn’t even bother Steve that much.</p><p> </p><p>And there he was, eyes darting around while Tony calmly paced the length of the jet over and over.</p><p> </p><p>“We are approaching the compound, sir,” FRIDAY announced.</p><p> </p><p>Tony clapped his hands and strode into the cockpit. The music followed him and quieted in the cargo hold. Steve let out a slow breath. He focused his gaze in his lap and tried some breathing exercises; he wanted to calm down before he saw Bucky, as Bucky would immediately know something was wrong and fuss over him.</p><p> </p><p>(But what was so damn wrong with letting his man fuss over him, part of Steve’s mind demanded.)</p><p> </p><p>“One minute to landing, Mr. Rogers,” FRIDAY told him.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Steve mumbled; he was nothing if not polite.</p><p> </p><p>The jet landed smoothly. Tony walked out of the cockpit and his faceplate slid back into place, guarding him from eye contact. Steve wished he had a mask that allowed him to avoid eye contact. He had tactical goggles, but they’d actually been smashed during the mission. So they were useless.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s get out of here, old man,” Tony said to him. “I’m gorging myself on so much sushi. Wanna come?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, thank you,” Steve muttered, pushing to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Suit yourself,” Tony said.</p><p> </p><p>Tony went out first. Steve immediately squinted at the sunlight and had to resist the urge to scrunch up into a ball and melt into a puddle through the grating on the gangplank. The roof of the Avengers compound was full of chaos and people were already shoving past Steve to get onto the jet to clean it and run repairs. Tony took off, using the power of his suit to escape the crowd, but Steve had to ease his way through the crowd while sweating like a sinner in church. </p><p> </p><p>Bucky was sitting on a bench over to the side of the airstrip. Steve went straight for him, then stopped abruptly a step away from him and stood there awkwardly. Bucky looked up from his phone and smiled, his eyes hidden behind overlarge, cat-eye sunglasses and face shaded by the wide brim of his black hat. He was wearing leather leggings and black sheer button-up with bright yellow daisies on it; his nipple rings were clearly visible.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, champ,” he greeted as he stood and put away his phone; he was also wearing platform boots, so now he was taller than Steve. “I thought we might pick up some take-out on the way home, what’d’ya want?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve shrugged, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the shine of Bucky’s left nipple ring. He could feel everyone behind him and his skin crawled. Bucky stepped closer and his hand slid over Steve’s shoulder. He squeezed, a sudden and reassuring focal point in the maelstrom of sensory input.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, kiddo,” he said softly, “how’s the weather down there?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve had bristled at that question a long time ago. Now, he was taller than Bucky (without Bucky wearing his ridiculous boots) and it threw him for a loop. So it was a comfort.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything’s too much,” Steve confessed in a rapid whisper, praying no one heard or saw how stiffly he was facing his husband. “It’s too loud, too bright.”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky slid his sunglasses and hat off and put them both on Steve. The sunlight’s intensity dropped and Steve exhaled. Bucky gave him an easy smile and picked up his left hand, squeezing it before lifting it up to his mouth and kissing his wedding ring through his gloves. Steve let a little bit of tension bleed from his shoulders, though they were still seizing in pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s get outta here, what’d’ya say?” Bucky prompted.</p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded quickly, his jaw tight. Bucky eased his hand around Steve’s shoulders and drew him close, pulling him into step beside him. Steve watched the ground as Bucky marched them out, the angle of Bucky’s hat shading his face from the bright sunlight and dark tint of the glasses hiding his gaze, but he was nowhere near relaxing yet.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky didn’t say anything else as he guided Steve out, they just walked. Steve kept his hands fisted at his side though Bucky was touching him, he couldn’t yet touch back. Bucky took Steve to the stairs instead of the elevator and Steve exhaled when the stairwell was empty. </p><p> </p><p>Bucky rested a hand at the small of his back as they took the several flights down to the garage, even all the way to where his motorcycle was waiting for them. He pulled a leather jacket from the saddle, donned it, then took his hat back from Steve and put it away so they could put on helmets. Steve was still insufferably hot, but he put it on. Bucky climbed astride the bike and Steve got behind him, wrapping around his back and resting his head on his good shoulder. Bucky turned on the engine, then rolled the bike back before picking his boots off the ground and taking off.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m picking up Indian takeout,” Bucky said, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pushing into Steve’s hand. “Get the usual shit, pal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Steve muttered, gripping Bucky’s jacket with his left hand so he could use the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Orders settled him. Orders that caused Bucky happiness relaxed him. That was good. He could do that.</p><p> </p><p>He searched Bucky’s favorite Indian restaurant and opened their online orders; he got spicy tikka masala, not spicy butter chicken, palak paneer, and plenty of rice and garlic naan. He could guess what Bucky would do with him and it when they got home.</p><p> </p><p>Steve put Bucky’s phone into his jacket pocket and hugged him around the waist, hiding his face in Bucky’s collar. He breathed and focused on the way the leather smelled, Bucky’s cologne on his skin, the light musk that meant Bucky had been sweating. Outside, the world stank of engine fumes and gasoline and marijuana. Bucky smelled good. It wasn’t so bad. He could shut his eyes, at least, and that dimmed the impact the light had on his state. Everything was still too noisy.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky stopped at the restaurant. He put a coin in the parking meter and tossed Steve the keys, then walked off. Steve scooted forward on the saddle and leaned forward to rest his head on the handlebars. He took off his helmet and pinned it between his knee and the bike, then just let his forehead stick to the chrome. At least as Nomad, his uniform wasn’t as recognizable. People didn’t really see him past the uniform normally, and when he had stopped wearing it, they stopped approaching him.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky was back in ten minutes; Steve had been very aware of the seconds ticking by, so he knew. He sat up and Bucky fastened the takeout bags to the bike’s cargo rack, settling them inside a large insulated bag to keep it all hot, then got back on the bike in front of Steve. Steve handed him the keys and conformed to his back again.</p><p> </p><p>“Helmet,” Bucky said.</p><p> </p><p>Steve sighed and put it on, then hid his face against Bucky’s shoulder again. Bucky turned the engine, then pulled into traffic.</p><p> </p><p>In another fifteen minutes, Bucky turned onto the little driveway/alley by their house and stopped the bike at its rack. Steve got up and stood there, gangly and awkward, while Bucky locked the bike up</p><p> </p><p>“Get the food,” Bucky told him casually.</p><p> </p><p>Steve moved, jerking at first, then easier as he reached the insulted bag. He took out the takeout, then Bucky paused in front of him to take his helmet off for him.</p><p> </p><p>“There y’go, kid,” Bucky murmured, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Let’s get the food into the kitchen, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve clenched his jaw and nodded. Bucky gave him an easy smile, then gripped his shoulder and steered him to the steps. Steve climbed them, going just ahead of Bucky, then stopped while Bucky unlocked the door. Bucky let him in first and Steve marched into the kitchen first, putting down the bags.</p><p> </p><p>The front door shut and Bucky’s keys clattered into the dish. Steve stood by the kitchen counter, stiff and frozen without something to do, while he listened to Bucky sitting down and taking off his boots. They were very complicated to get in and out of. Then, in just his socks, Bucky entered the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Go shower,” he said. “You have thirty minutes. I want you clean enough to eat off of, Rogers.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve moved without a word, stiff as before. Bucky caught his arm as he passed him, stopping him. Steve avoided his gaze, yet unsure he deserved eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>“Any longer, I come looking for you,” Bucky said carefully. “Any <em> shorter, </em> I come looking for you. You understand?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded. Bucky smiled in his peripheral vision and his hand lifted to pat Steve’s cheek. Steve melted, pressing into his warm palm, and Bucky took advantage of his pliance to pull him in and down to kiss his forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you say?” Bucky asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yessir,” Steve mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Good boy,” Bucky told him. “Go.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve slipped from his grasp and headed for the stairs. He heard Bucky walking deeper into the kitchen, the light step of his socked feet all Steve could hear inside the house. They’d sound-proofed the walls, both to keep out the outside out and their lives in.</p><p> </p><p>Steve went into the bathroom directly and worked off his gloves. He dropped them into an empty, waiting basket, to be taken back to the Compound for cleaning and repairs, then went to switch on the shower. He turned the water hot and let it warm up. He sat down on the toilet to get his boots off, set them neatly by the basket, then stripped out of his uniform piece by kevlar piece. He folded the pieces that would fold, tucked the codpiece on the bottom out of sight, and tossed his undershirt, leggings, socks, and briefs into the regular laundry hamper. </p><p> </p><p>The mirror was beginning to fog up. Steve got into the shower without checking the temperature and got hit by a higher temperature than was comfortable. He hardly registered it, but knew that it would leave his skin pinker than Bucky liked, so he adjusted the heat quickly. Then he stood there under the water, letting his body soak through.</p><p> </p><p>Steve let his eyes shut then. He could take two minutes to stand there and let the hot water pound at his sore muscles. A headache that had been sitting low in his skull for longer than he cared to remember began to ease away as his neck muscles unclenched. Steve dropped his head back and let the water cut across his scalp before sliding down his body.</p><p> </p><p>Two minutes passed. Steve changed gears with difficulty, feeling like his joints were riddled with arthritis yet again. But he moved despite the initial stiffness and his movements loosened  He pumped shampoo into his palm and set about scrubbing his hair, dragging his stubby nails across his scalp. That took about forty seconds, then he rinsed, and that took up the last twenty seconds of the minute, leaving him with 27. He pumped conditioner into his palm, then coated his hair with it and rinsed his hands, it would sit in his hair while he washed his body. He scrubbed a bar with his loofah and the scent of eucalyptus and sweetened peppermint filled the steamy bathroom. Steve exhaled, then took a few precious seconds to breathe it in. With twenty-five minutes left, he washed his body everywhere, scrubbing diligently for another five minutes.</p><p> </p><p><em> Clean enough to eat off of. </em>Steve hung up the loofah, then set his hands on the tile wall and spread his feet apart, leaning forward. The water hit his back and, due to his stance, traveled between his asscheeks and over his hole. He gave that a minute, then turned again and took the enema hose from its hook. Steve angled the showerhead away from his front, so it hit his knees, then pumped some waterproof lube onto his fingers. He reached behind himself and gave his hole a quick coat and a few probes, then coated the hose’s nozzle and brought it behind himself. He spread his feet, leaning forward, and slid it inside himself. He rinsed his hand, then turned the hose on and leaned against the wall while water filled him.</p><p> </p><p>He had twenty minutes. It took only one for his body to fill to the point of discomfort, and Steve turned the hose off and pulled the nozzle free. He pushed back the shower’s door and, dripping, stepped off to the side and sat down on the toilet. In another minute, he’d expelled the water and some stool. Steve used a towel to dry his hands before cleaning up, then wiped himself with a scent-free baby wipe before getting back in the shower and repeating the process. </p><p> </p><p>He repeated it three more times, using up the last of his half-hour. He turned off the water, got out, and then ended up standing there staring at the door. He blinked. The water dripping from his body and hitting the mat under his feet absorbed his attention span. Bucky hadn't given him instructions beyond showering.</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom door opened. Bucky stuck his head in, then raised an eyebrow. Steve blinked at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You lost, kiddo?” Bucky asked, slipping through the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>Steve let out a broken noise and raised his arms. Bucky clucked his tongue and came forward, grabbing a towel. He wrapped it around Steve’s shoulders and Steve lurched forward to wrap Bucky in a hug. Bucky tutted again, his hand settling into Steve’s sopping hair.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t wash out the conditioner,” Bucky murmured.</p><p> </p><p>Steve gasped. He jerked back, scrambling to climb back into the shower, but Bucky grabbed his arm.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright,” he said, “you’re not in trouble. C’mere, I’ll wash it out in the sink.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve scowled at himself. Bucky wrapped the towel around his shoulders, pinning his arms to his side, then pulled him forward. Steve dripped onto the tiles and Bucky bent him over the sink, putting his head in the basin. Steve went limp on the counter and Bucky turned the water on. It came out cold first, but warmed quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“There you go,” Bucky said, pouring water over Steve’s hair. “No problem at all, kiddo. Boys forget little things all the time, that’s what you got a daddy for.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded weakly. Bucky shut off the water, then patted Steve’s back and left him bent over the sink to grab another towel. He covered Steve’s hair, then pulled on his shoulder until he stood up. Bucky scrubbed at his hair, then unwrapped him from the bigger towel and buffed the droplets of water on his skin away.</p><p> </p><p>“Couldn’t shave,” Steve mumbled apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t tell you to,” Bucky answered. “I said half an hour, I didn’t want you to shave.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve grunted. Bucky wrapped the towel around his shoulders again, its hem barely covering his ass and his limp dick poking out in the front, then turned him and pushed him through the door to their bedroom. Steve walked numbly, short, shuffling steps as he blinked wearily. Bucky put him down on the bed and Steve sat there, just waiting.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky undressed. Steve couldn’t even get his dick to perk up in interest yet. There was bright, harsh sunlight coming through the blinds and his headache was back. Bucky put his clothes in the hamper, but then dressed again, putting on sweatpants and a loose sleeveless top, though he forwent underwear and socks. He tied his hair back, then opened Steve’s dresser and took out a pair of black briefs. Steve relaxed; they were a comfortable pair, he liked them. Bucky then pulled a long, mock-turtleneck sweater out of the dresser, and left it to cross back to the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Up,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>Steve stood. The towel came loose and Bucky pulled it off him. He bent and held the underwear out and Steve stepped into them. Bucky pulled them up his thighs and settled his dick into them. Steve hissed at the sensation and Bucky clucked his tongue again sympathetically.</p><p> </p><p>“Poor thing,” he said. “How’s the weather down there, baby?”</p><p> </p><p>“Loud,” Steve mumbled regrettably.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky let out a soft coo. He cupped Steve’s cheeks and pulled him down, kissing his forehead again. Steve let his eyes shut and he sagged onto Bucky’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“You still runnin’ hot?” Bucky asked, carding his metal fingers through Steve’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>Steve shook his head. “‘M okay. Tired.”</p><p> </p><p>“How’s the body?” Bucky added.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurts,” Steve admitted. “Sore. Headache.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take care’a that, sweetie,” Bucky promised him. “C’mere.”</p><p> </p><p>He stood Steve up again and pulled the sweater over his head. Steve eased his arms through the sleeves, then let his shoulders slump as the cuffs covered his knuckles. Bucky tugged the bottom hem down, covering his ass, then he adjusted the neck.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon,” he said, his fingers looping around the back of Steve’s neck, “supper’s waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve followed Bucky, trailing behind him with small steps. His feet brushed through the carpet covering the upper floor, then settled on the cool, finished hardwood of the first floor. He wasn't looking where he was going, he only followed Bucky's hand.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky walked him around the stairwell, then guided him through the basement door and took him down the carpeted steps. Steve relaxed as the light dimmed, replaced by red-tinted light that didn’t strain his eyes or headache. Bucky took out his phone, then soft string-instrument jazz music took up the buzzing silence. </p><p> </p><p>“In your spot,” Bucky said, waving to the TV area.</p><p> </p><p>Steve smiled in relief and collapsed onto his cushion on the floor. Bucky dropped into the armchair behind him, then tossed both legs over his shoulders and pinned him to the front of the chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Knees up,” Bucky said.</p><p> </p><p>Steve lifted them, pressing them tightly together. Bucky put his ankles on his knees, then settled a hand into his hair again. The fabric behind Steve began to warm up from the internal heater and Steve melted into it.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky switched on the TV and immediately changed the light filters to project a dimmer, pinker image. Steve didn’t really look, the light still a little much, but Bucky put on <em> Night on Earth, </em> muted it, and set the remote aside. He picked up a plate from the side table, then, fork chiming against the china, began to eat.</p><p> </p><p>Steve eventually looked up at the TV, watching the animals and trees. The subtitles were also off, so the only input was the video. His headache faded with his skull pressed into the warm, soft fabric, and his sore back relaxed. Bucky ate first. He had his meal and finished it before Steve was allowed to eat. That was their routine.</p><p> </p><p>“Hungry?” Bucky asked some time later.</p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded. He hadn't been aware of it, but he was starving.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky pulled a tray into his lap, then pulled Steve’s head back by his hair and pressed a piece of pinched naan against his lips, rice soaked in sauce between the bread. Steve opened his mouth and took it, then licked Bucky’s fingers clean. Bucky tucked his metal hand into Steve’s hair and began to lightly massage his scalp, then fed him a piece of moist chicken covered in sauce. Steve licked his finger clean for each bite; alternating chicken and paneer and naan with rice and sauce. Eventually, he chased Bucky’s fingers and pulled them into his mouth to suck on the tips.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s my boy,” Bucky said gently as he brushed his metal knuckles across Steve’s cheek. “How’s your head?”</p><p> </p><p>“Better,” Steve mumbled around Bucky’s fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky tugged gently on his ear. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, kid.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve let Bucky’s fingers fall from his mouth. “Sorry, Daddy,” he mumbled. “I’m better. My headache’s gone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>“Quiet,” Steve mumbled. “Good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Bucky repeated. </p><p> </p><p>He pressed more rice to Steve’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky fed him for a while, but Steve was no longer conscious of time passing. He was hungry, and then he wasn’t, and Bucky seemed to run out of food to give him.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky cleaned his hands, then leaned back in his chair and stroked Steve’s hair a while. Steve vaguely watched the program, though he certainly wasn’t paying attention to anything but Bucky’s fingers. Eventually, Bucky pulled his legs off Steve’s shoulders and his hand slid around his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“I have a plan,” Bucky said. “Stay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yessir,” Steve mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky got up. Steve sagged into the warm chair, turning his head to breathe Bucky’s lingering scent. He could hear Bucky moving around, but didn’t have the wherewithal to give a shit about what he was doing.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky’s hands landed on his waist and he was being lifted up. Steve wrapped around Bucky’s torso, feeling large and awkward, but Bucky carried him across the room with nary a grunt. He put Steve down on a padded leather table, then maneuvered him to sit on his knees. Steve automatically put his hands behind his back. Bucky caught his chin.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to give you a blindfold and headphones and tie you up,” he said. “Yes or no?”</p><p> </p><p>“Green,” Steve mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky pulled him in and kissed his forehead. Steve leaned closer, appreciating him. Bucky let him go, then picked up a blue cloth band and pulled it over his eyes. Steve relaxed onto his heels, his spine curving automatically. Bucky helped him from his sweater, then put a pair of headphones on him, snug and warm, and the soft jazz cut out. Steve heard only his heartbeat and breathing.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Tell me your color, sweet pea,” </em> Bucky’s voice came through the headset.</p><p> </p><p>“Green,” Steve mumbled, his voice hardly audible outside his skull.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Good. Get comfortable where you are and hold onto your elbows.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Steve obeyed, because of course he did. Ropes looped his neck, then Bucky was tying a pattern around his torso and arms. His hands were bound behind his back. They were soft, cool, and a little loose over his back and neck, but snug on his wrists. Perfect. Bucky tied his thighs to his calves, then his metal hand touched the small of his back. </p><p> </p><p>The temperature startled him into sitting upright. Bucky cooed through the headphones.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Stay just like this, princess,” </em> he said, <em> “Daddy’s gonna play with your mouth and your skin, green?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Steve mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky’s cold hand trailed up his spine. Steve shivered. He didn’t like cold too much, but Bucky knew that, and he didn’t linger with his metal hand. A feather brushed Steve’s chest. Steve twitched and his nipples tightened.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Ain’t that a pretty sight?” </em> Bucky murmured. <em> “Mouth open.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve dropped his jaw. Something cool pressed to his lips and he pushed his tongue forward, taking it forward. He tasted chocolate, then bit down into a strawberry. He moaned; strawberries and chocolate were two of his favorite things, and so much better when combined.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Bucky chuckled and Steve shivered again just at the sound of his voice. Bucky pulled the stem of the strawberry away, then glass touched his lips. Steve drank; it was champagne, fruity and a little dry and very carbonated.</p><p> </p><p><em> “You like the treats?” </em>Bucky asked.</p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded. Bucky trailed the feather across his nipples and Steve whimpered as his cock began to fill.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Very good,” </em> Bucky murmured.</p><p> </p><p>He fed him another strawberry. Steve sucked on the residual taste on his tongue, then drank another gulp of champagne as Bucky gave it to him. The feather moved down his chest, down the cut of his abs, and Steve groaned as the fine fibers caught on the stubble of his body hair. Bucky began to hum a soft, quiet tune, probably what was playing over the speakers, and he trailed the feather up again between the valley of Steve’s chest.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Gonna play with your pretty tits,” </em> Bucky murmured through the headset. <em> “You’re gonna come in your panties, babydoll.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve whimpered and bit his lip. Bucky trailed a strawberry over his lip and Steve quickly opened his mouth to taste it, but Bucky took it away. Steve whined and Bucky chuckled again before giving it to him. Steve sucked on the juices, swallowed, then licked across his chin to clean up his face. Bucky slid the feather across one of his nipples again and Steve whined as his whole body shivered.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Look how pretty my boy is,” </em> Bucky said to him. <em> “All clean and relaxed, happy and fed. You’re so pretty for Daddy, little boy. You know what Daddy likes to do with pretty little boys, right?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded quickly, whimpering yet again. He knew. He wanted it bad, wanted to serve his Daddy and earn his praise, make his Daddy come like a good boy. Bucky’s lips pressed against the back of his neck and Steve gasped as pleasure shocked down his spine.</p><p> </p><p><em> “You know,” </em> Bucky purred. <em> “Your Daddy likes to tie pretty little boys up and fuck them nice and sweetly, gentle-like, ‘cause Daddy’s strong and he doesn’t want to break his little boy, no. Would you like Daddy to spread you out on your front and sweetly fuck your cute ass?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Steve whined.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky chuckled; his voice and breath so close to his neck made Steve shiver. The feather pulled away from his skin, then instead, Bucky’s fingers gripped his nipples and squeezed. Steve gasped.</p><p> </p><p><em> “I need you t’a get all wet for me, then,” </em> Bucky said. <em> “How’s ‘bout I make you come a few times, then use that to fuck you, hm?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Please, Daddy,” Steve murmured. “Please, please use me, I wanna be a good boy, good doll.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “You are a good doll,” </em> Bucky assured him. <em> “You’re nice ‘n’ still, takin’ me teasin’ you all easy-like, that makes you a very good babydoll, sweetheart. Daddy’s very proud of you.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve shivered and whined from the praise. Bucky cupped his pecs and pressed them together roughly, squeezing them, then started to twist and tug at his nipples. Steve whimpered and Bucky dragged his open lips across the back of his neck.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Think my good little boy can come like this?” </em> Bucky asked him, then licked and nipped at his shoulder. <em> “Just from Daddy whisperin’ in his ear an’ playin’ with his tits?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh,” Steve uttered weakly.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky chuckled. <em> “I wanna see it,” </em> he said. <em> “Wanna see you get those panties all dirty. Get ‘em nice an’ wet. C’mon, sugar, give Daddy a good show.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Bucky bit down on his shoulder, hands twisting his nipples, and Steve let out a jagged, high-pitched gasp as he came just like Bucky told him to.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Fuck, you’re so easy, honey,” </em> Bucky laughed darkly.</p><p> </p><p>Steve whimpered, but Bucky let go of his chest with his right hand and instead reached down and cupped his dick in his underwear. He squeezed and Steve jerked, gasping, as <em> too-much-too-soon-not-enough </em> flashed through his groin. </p><p> </p><p><em> “Lemme see it again, baby,” </em> Bucky cooed, <em> “think I blinked and missed it, sugar, you’re gonna hafta do it again so I can get a better look.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Daddy,” Steve whined.</p><p> </p><p><em> “I know, I know,” </em> Bucky laughed again, <em> “you’re all sensitive right now, aren’t you?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded, hitching his breath. Bucky kissed under his ear, his breath hot, then scraped his teeth across the spot and Steve whimpered as his cock spasmed in Bucky’s grip anyway.</p><p> </p><p><em> “I ain’t had a shot at your ass in a few days is all, princess,” </em> Bucky murmured. <em> “Daddy misses it somethin’ bad. So you jus’ gotta bite your lip an’ do what I tell you now, okay, sweetie? Can my good little boy do that for Daddy?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Steve answered weakly. “‘M a good boy. Daddy’s good boy.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “That’s right, you are,” </em> Bucky told him. <em> “An’ what a pretty little good boy you make like this, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna play with your little cock now, okay? You’re gonna be good and let me, right?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Gr–green,” Steve mumbled quickly.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Good boy,” </em> Bucky purred. <em> “What a cute little trooper you are for Daddy, babydoll.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Bucky palmed at Steve’s pec with his left hand, but slid his right into his underwear. Steve hissed as Bucky slid his hand around his dick, but while the sensation was both painful and perfect, he was still stiff and it was easy for Bucky to stroke him. Bucky pushed his underwear down, hooked it behind his balls, and spread his own cum over his shaft and began touching him slowly, languidly. Steve whined and Bucky chuckled, pressing his lips against his neck.</p><p> </p><p><em> “C’mon, good boy,” </em> Bucky murmured, <em> “you want Daddy to put his cock in you, don’t you? You want Daddy to fuck your tight ass until you’re crying, right?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve sniffed and nodded quickly, but he was already crying. The tight feeling of Bucky’s hand on his dick was far too much too quickly, it hurt like hell and he wanted more of it. He squirmed and Bucky chuckled, just to make the noise, as he kissed behind Steve’s ear.</p><p> </p><p><em> “That’s my good boy,” </em> he said, <em> “Daddy’s so proud of you, babydoll.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded again, faster, frantic. He mumbled without really exhaling, making no sound, and Bucky swept his metal hand from his chest to his face, gripping his jaw and pressing two fingers against his mouth. Steve opened his lips, took Bucky’s fingers into his mouth, and sucked on them fervently while Bucky twisted his wrist and squeezed his cock. Steve let out a sob, broken by the sensation, and Bucky nuzzled the back of his neck so that he shivered.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Good boy,” </em> Bucky just kept saying, <em> “Daddy’s good little boy.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve came a second time with a broken gasp. Bucky laughed darkly, lusty and milked his dick with firm, unyielding fingers, even as Steve sobbed again from how much the touch hurt. It was perfect, it was glorious. Bucky pulled his fingers from Steve’s mouth and grabbed his pec again, squeezing and abusing his nipple, and Steve shook violently as his hips spasmed from the overstimulation on his dick.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Good job, sweet pea,” </em> Bucky told him, <em> “look what a mess you’ve made for Daddy, good boy. Are you ready for Daddy’s cock now?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck, yes, yes,” Steve begged, “please, I want it so fucking much, want you to use me, sir, ‘m good.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “You’re very good,” </em> Bucky promised. <em> “I want you to lean forward, sweetheart. Go on, I’ll catch you.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve whimpered. He pushed up on his toes and leaned forward, precarious, but as he teetered on his knees, Bucky’s arm wrapped around his middle to brace him. Steve sighed and fell into his touch, going limp. Bucky lowered him onto his front, helped him spread his folded legs, and then pulled him back until his knees dropped off the leather table and hung in the air. Steve squirmed and whined as his sore cock hit the leather, but Bucky shushed him and put him in place.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Stay still now, baby boy,” </em> Bucky said, <em> “Daddy’s gonna use you like you need.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve nodded, pressing his wet cheek to the leather. Bucky pulled his underwear down his ass, then let it trap his thighs together and spread his asscheeks apart with his hands. A glob of warm liquid hit his hole and Steve flinched bodily, but Bucky just chuckled as he rubbed the saliva in with his thumb.</p><p> </p><p><em> “There you go, sweetie,” </em> Bucky said. <em> “I’m gonna go get the slick, so you stay where I put you, alright?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Yessir,” Steve mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky’s left hand cracked across his ass. Steve shouted, yelping as he rocked forward from the touch and whined as his cock rubbed between his stomach and the table, but Bucky just laughed at him. He felt Bucky step away and whimpered where he was, resisting the urge to squirm, until Bucky’s hands slid over his ass again.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Here you go, darlin’,” </em> Bucky murmured, squeezing his ass with both hands. <em> “Gonna give you what you need.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve hiccuped. Bucky let go of his ass, then rubbed two wet fingers over his hole. Steve pushed his ass out, arching his back, and Bucky slid his left hand down his spine before gripping his shoulder soothingly. He cooed and Steve hiccuped again.</p><p> </p><p><em> “There’s my good boy,” </em> Bucky said. <em> “Here you go.” </em></p><p> </p><p>A finger slid into him, easy as anything, and Steve bit down on his lip. Bucky folded over him, kissed his spine, and murmured soft words as he worked that one finger in and out slowly. After a minute or maybe an hour, Steve could no longer tell, Bucky slid a second finger into him.</p><p> </p><p><em> “How’s it feel, baby boy?” </em> he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Steve said, his voice a gentle slur.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “And your head?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Steve smiled and nodded. Bucky kissed the top of his spine, then pressed his face against his neck. His two fingers worked for a while longer, then, eventually, a third pushed into him. Steve was boneless on the table, his cock throbbing under him from both renewed need and overstimulation. Bucky squeezed his ass with his left hand and pulled at his rim with a thumb.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Think you’re ready, little boy,” </em> he said. <em> “You want Daddy’s cock in you?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Steve answered weakly. “‘M good, ‘m a good boy.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You are, babydoll, the best little boy.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Steve sighed as Bucky’s fingers slid out of his hole, then whimpered as a chill settled over his body from being exposed. Bucky hushed him, then the hot, thick head of his cock was sliding between his asscheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Steve exhaled in a whimper, “please, Daddy, I’m a good boy, been good, wan’ you, Daddy.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “My good boy always gets Daddy’s cock,” </em> Bucky promised, kissing the back of his spine.</p><p> </p><p>His cock popped into Steve’s hole. Steve sighed again, weak and hot everywhere, and Bucky slowly pushed in.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Jesus, that’s tight,” </em> Bucky said, his voice sharpened into a growl. <em> “Tightest fuckin’ ass Daddy’s ever had, fuck.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Steve grinned and giggled happily. He clenched around Bucky and made him groan and swear again. Bucky’s hands grabbed his hips, grip incredibly tight, and then Bucky slammed into him in one movement. Steve shouted, whined as his cock was rubbed against himself and the leather, and Bucky just let out a long groan as he rolled his hips.</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy,” Steve whimpered, “Daddy, please –?”</p><p> </p><p><em> “Good boy,” </em> Bucky growled, thrusting into him hard.</p><p> </p><p>He hit Steve’s prostate dead on. Steve gasped, screaming almost, as his body spasmed and his cock shot off again. Bucky let out a pinched grunt and started fucking into him hard, nothing of the gentleness he’d kidded about before, and Steve cried out with overwhelmed pleasure on every upstroke. His sore cock was rubbed raw as the force of Bucky’s movements fucked it against the leather and his stomach, but even that painful stimulation was incredible. Steve lost track of time, was babbling nonsense, and eventually came a fourth time. </p><p> </p><p>Bucky spilled into him shortly after. Steve whined as Bucky came, clenching hard around his cock as Bucky fucked into him through his orgasm, producing wet, squelching sounds. Steve realized that he was no longer wearing the headphones, so he could hear as Bucky’s cock dragged through the mess inside him and fucked back into it.</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus,” Bucky panted, his hands sliding up to wrap around Steve’s waist. “Fuck, that was good.”</p><p> </p><p>“‘M a good boy,” Steve mumbled back.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh,” Bucky answered, kissing his back. “Daddy’s best little boy.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve smiled weakly. “Best little boy,” he repeated absently.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky smiled against his back and kissed him again. “Daddy’s proud of his best little boy,” he said. “You made me come so fuckin’ hard, sweet pea, you did a good job.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve sighed happily. Bucky released the ropes on him, then pulled his softening cock out. Steve grimaced, but just as Bucky’s cock left him, a toy replaced it. Steve let out a satisfied sound and Bucky settled the plug against his crease.</p><p> </p><p>“There you go,” Bucky murmured. “Now, does my good little boy want cuddles?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Steve answered happily.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky lifted him off the leather surface. Steve flopped against his chest and they stood there for a second as Bucky ran a wipe over his stomach and between his legs. Steve turned his head into Bucky’s neck and kissed him sloppily. Bucky caught his jaw and held him still to kiss his lips. Steve was still sloppy, but Bucky held him close and kissed him anyway. Then, Bucky lifted him off his feet and carried him to the armchair by the TV. Bucky sat down with him, let Steve curl up in his lap, and put up the footrest to lie back.</p><p> </p><p>Steve tucked under Bucky’s chin and nuzzled his neck. Bucky had taken his clothes off at some point, and his skin was bare against Steve’s. He was warm and soft and perfect. Bucky covered them with a throw blanket and began massaging slow patterns into the back of Steve’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>“My good little boy,” Bucky murmured. “How’s the weather down there?”</p><p> </p><p>“Perfect,” Steve answered in a purr.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <i>you can find more of <a href="https://twitter.com/LLOUIS013">LadyAngelique</a> on twitter, or check more of their work out here on ao3. you know the drill for me, you can catch me on <a href="https://twitter.com/moonythejedi">twitter</a> or <a href="http://moonythejedi394.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>. you can catch links to our support thingies that by ao3's terms of use i'm not allowed to properly mention or link by checking our twitters and such. MCU Kinkbang is brought to you by some wonderful mods, including my Canadian mom <a href="https://twitter.com/Neutralchaos1">NeutralChaos</a>, who do great work in making sure we get our shit posted in time. (yes that means i have a close connection to a mod no that does not equal nepotism shush.)</i>
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